The Arrangement
by Evie Delacourt
Summary: Jashana Arilan, niece to Bishop Denis Arilan, is presented with an unexpected offer from Michael, the High Lord of Llyr. Slightly AU take on the Deryni universe. (The island kingdom of Llyr was introduced in my earlier story Anamchara.)
1. Part One: The Proposal

**The Arrangement**

** Part One—The Proposal**

_ Twelfth Night Feast, 1133_

_ Rhemuth Castle_

Lady Jashana Arilan glanced at the man who sat down in the empty space next to her on the bench. Her eyes widened in surprise as he turned to flash her a brief smile before his clear green eyes made a quick scan of the Great Hall. "My lord," she whispered, "aren't you normally seated at the High Table when you're in Rhemuth? You're certainly entitled."

Michael, High Lord of Llyr, turned his attention back to the dark-haired beauty by his side. He smiled. "I deliberately arrived late so I could avoid that privilege. Besides, it's you I've come to see this visit, Lady Jashana, not Kelson. I realize you're probably here for the festivities, and I've promised my son Corin we'd spend a bit of time together once he's done with his official duties for the evening, but might I call upon you for a short while tomorrow? An hour or so should suffice." The smile turned into a grin. "It needn't be especially early, if you're planning on staying up late for the Revels tonight."

Jashana stared at the High Lord, her curiosity piqued. She was only slightly acquainted with the man, and could think of no reason why he would be seeking out her company. "Certainly. Shall I meet you here in the Great Hall again for the noon meal?"

He shook his head. "No, somewhere a bit more private, I think." He handed his wine goblet over to a page wearing Haldane livery, waiting for it to be filled. "The Royal Library, perhaps, or maybe the Chapel Royal? I'd suggest going for a walk in the gardens or a ride outside the city walls, but it's apt to be a bit cold tomorrow."

"The Library would be fine," she murmured, wondering anew what matter was so pressing that the High Lord of Llyr would be seeking her out for a private audience. Perhaps he needed some matter looked into discreetly? But no, even assuming he knew what services the Arilan family was accustomed to providing for the King of Gwynedd, surely he'd have sought out her brother Seisyll rather than her if he wished some matter investigated.

Michael's attention had wandered back to the High Table. He frowned slightly. "I don't see my brother-in-law. Has Duke Dhugal returned to Cassan early?"

Jashana shook her head. "He was here for Court earlier. I thought he looked rather unwell, though. Mayhap he decided to make an early evening of it and take his supper in his own apartments instead."

A shadow crossed Michael's features. "Or drink his supper, more likely." He gave her a wistful smile. "Today would have been his fourth wedding anniversary with my sister. I imagine he simply wasn't in a festive mood." The High Lord swirled the wine in his goblet before taking a sip. "I'd hoped to see my nephew and niece and at least meet Dhugal's new Duchess sometime this visit, but perhaps some other time."

"You're not in Rhemuth for long, then?"

"Only a couple of days at most, this trip. I do have a Kingdom to run." Michael shot an easy grin at his benchmate, making her laugh.

"Please pardon my asking, but what _is_ the proper form of address for the High Lord of Llyr, my lord?"

"_Ard Tiarna_, if you absolutely must be formal." Michael chuckled softly, taking another sip of his wine as he studied the younger of the Arilan sisters. "Or in private, Mihall."

Jashana raised a dark brow at him. "Llyrians have separate titles in private than in public?"

The man laughed. "No. Mihall is my given name. 'Michael' is the Gwyneddan form. We don't stand on ceremony all that much in Llyr. My people call me Mihall, from the highest noble to the most humble rustic."

"Mihall..." Jashana repeated the unfamiliar name quietly, testing the feel of it.

"Aye. Mihall." The green eyes glinted teasingly down at her. "It has a nice sound, coming from your lips. I hope to hear you say it often." He tossed off the rest of the wine in his glass, then stood, bowing over her hand. "Alas, I've other folk I need to speak with this evening before the festivities get too far under way. Until tomorrow afternoon then, Lady Jashana, shortly after the noon meal."

#

_ January 7_

_ Royal Library, Rhemuth Castle_

She found the High Lord in the Royal Library the next afternoon, seated in one of the window embrasures. He stood at her approach, bowing over her hand in greeting and motioning her towards one of the cushioned seats in the window. As she sat, he took the seat opposite hers.

"I imagine you're probably quite curious about why I've asked to meet with you privately today," Michael said without preamble.

"It did catch me quite off guard, my lord," Jashana affirmed. "Though if you have a matter of business that requires…discreet inquiries, shall we say?...that sort of thing is best discussed with my brother Seisyll."

The High Lord laughed quietly. "Oh, it's nothing of _that _sort. What 'discreet inquiries' were required, I've already made on my own, and as to approaching Sir Seisyll with my business, I think I'd rather speak with you first and see if you're minded to consider my offer before I bring it up with your head of household. Your brother strikes me as a rather strong-willed sort, and there are some matters a lady ought to have some freedom to make up her own mind about."

"I can hardly disagree, though now I must confess I'm even more curious." Jashana chuckled. "You're surely not intending to court me, but I can hardly imagine what other sort of business you'd have with me in which my personal preferences would take a priority over Seisyll's."

Michael folded his hands in his lap, smiling faintly as he studied the woman across the narrow embrasure from him. "Actually, I _am_ here to ask you to consider a marriage between us, so yes, I imagine some degree of courtship would be optimal in order for us to have a bit of time to get to know each other properly first. But I'm in need of a wife, and fairly soon, so if you're minded to consider my offer, I hope you won't mind that I don't want to have _too_ prolonged a courtship."

Jashana stared at the High Lord. "_Ard Tiarna _Mihall," she finally managed, "I'm quite honored to be considered, but you _do_ realize I'm a mere knight's daughter, do you not? And not even an heiress at that."

A tawny-gold brow rose. "And should that matter?" The corners of his lips twitched in an expression that looked suspiciously like a suppressed laugh. "I'm not paying court to your father, Lady Jashana."

"It's just as well you're not; you'd have to be a necromancer to summon him back from the grave, and given that he sired four children in only five years of married life, I'd have to guess his tastes ran strongly towards women." Jesú, that had come out sounding sharper and more flippant than she'd intended! Jashana willed down her sudden nervousness, hoping she'd not managed to put this unexpected suitor off with her burst of ironic humor. He'd truly caught her by surprise, and she'd simply blurted out the first thing that had come to her head in response to his jest.

Michael simply grinned. "I'm no necromancer, though I _am_ High Deryni, and I assure you my tastes run exceedingly strongly towards women as well, so your late father's virtue is quite safe. My Lady, have I actually managed to catch an Arilan off guard?"

She blushed. "Yes, you have, my lord. Why me? I mean…not that I'm not honored…."

"Why you?" The grin subsided as he studied her, though a slight smile remained. "Several reasons. For one thing, there's our shared heritage." He glanced around the room to ensure there was no one else within earshot. "Although a human wife would not be completely out of the question—I've had one before—I have reasons to prefer marriage to another Deryni, and someone with formal training would be a decided asset. My own…inquiries…have led me to believe you might have such qualities, my lady?"

Jashana carefully kept her expression neutral. "Might I inquire who your sources were?"

He chuckled. "You might, yes, but I might not answer. Do you reveal _your_ sources of information, Lady Jashana?" Michael shifted slightly on his window seat, leaning closer to her. "I assure you, I'm aware that your family has reason to wish that particular bit of information kept in strictest confidence. You might say I asked a mutual friend for his recommendations for a suitable wife."

She stared at him skeptically. "The _King_ recommended me?"

Michael laughed. "You _are_ quick!"

Jashana gave a quiet snort of dry amusement. "We hardly run in the same circles, _Ard Tiarna_. That rather limits the possibilities of who you might regard as a mutual friend."

"So it does. And your agile mind brings up another reason for my interest. My future wife will hopefully be the mother of Llyr's _Banoidhre_, the inheratrix who will in turn give my realm its future High Lord. I'm sure you can understand why I can't afford a lackwit for a wife."

The younger Arilan sister pondered the implications. "That's right, your realm's royal bloodline is matrilineal, isn't it? How _does_ that work? I've never been quite clear about how the Llyrian line of succession is managed."

"The Lordship is passed down through the High Lord's sister's son. Generally the eldest sister's eldest son, though there have been rare exceptions. Had my sister Catriona married a Llyrian man, or nearly any man of lower estate than Duke Dhugal for that matter, her eldest son would have been my heir, not my son Corin. However, she gave up her birthright in order to marry Dhugal, since Kelson could hardly have approved their marriage otherwise." He chuckled. "Not that _I_ would have minded her son Duncan Michael bringing Cassan, Kierney, and Transha into the Kingdom of Llyr, but Kelson surely would have had a few issues with ceding so large a portion of Gwynedd to the House of O'Shiele in perpetuity."

"Oh, doubtless!" Jashana studied Michael of Llyr thoughtfully. "So, if your sister ceded her birthright to your son Corin, who is _his_ heir presumptive currently?"

"At present, a distant cousin. Should I marry and have a daughter who lives to bear sons, though, the succession will continue unbroken through a sister's son. Half-sisters count for purposes of determining lines of succession."

She nodded. "I can understand your desire to remarry, then, and also why you might hope for a Deryni mother for your future heirs, especially if you're Deryni yourself. There are other women in the Eleven Kingdoms a ruler of a realm might find more suitable as a bride, though. Again, why me?"

Michael gave her a teasing grin. "Why _not_ you?" He glanced out the window for a moment, then looked back at her with an assessing gaze. "Lady Jashana, I'm thirty-six years old. I've married twice before—the first time to Corin's mother, and the second time more recently. I lost my first wife to a lingering illness and my second to the hazards of childbed. Most of the ladies whose names have been suggested to me have been younger women, unsuitable either to the task of being my _Ban-Tiarna_ or else simply not the sort of young lady it would be my personal preference to marry. I don't want a bride barely out of childhood, half my age or younger; I'd far prefer a woman with a bit more maturity and life experience." The grin lit his eyes, crinkling them slightly at the corners. "Not that I'm meaning to imply you're an old and wizened crone. Dare I ask your age, or would that be considered too impertinent?"

She laughed. "I'm twenty-seven, my lord; surely that must be the least of my secrets. And now, if you've been making such a study of me, you're doubtless wondering why I've gone so long without having wed yet."

"I know you've been betrothed twice. Your first affianced husband died during the Mearan conflict, did he not?"

"Yes." The amusement in her eyes dimmed. "Our betrothal was announced at Christmas Court, and just a few months later he was dead, killed in the ambush by Sicard's army."

He regarded her with quiet sympathy. "That must have been quite a blow. Was it a love match?"

She shook her head. "No, actually I barely knew him. He seemed pleasant enough, the few times we met." Jashana shrugged. "Like many girls in such situations, I was more in love with the idea of marrying and setting up my own household. I certainly didn't _dis_like him, though. He was kind and seemed the indulgent sort." She laughed quietly. "He probably would have found me too headstrong a wife, had he lived long enough for us to marry."

Michael's lips twitched. "Is that a warning?"

"It ought to be. I'm afraid Seisyll's not the only strong-willed Arilan."

"I'll keep that in mind. I should warn you in turn that the O'Shiele's are rather known for our dogged persistence."

"That's lovely. If we wed, then, what are our chances of surviving the first year without killing each other?"

The High Lord's eyes held a wicked glint. "You're far too lovely to kill, Lady Jashana, not to mention that would make procreation difficult. I'd simply gag you."

Jashana let loose a burst of laughter. She clapped her hand over her mouth and shot a quick glance towards the librarian's desk. Father Nivard merely gave the pair a curious glance before smiling and ducking his head towards his book once more.

"Tell me about your second betrothal, my lady."

Jashana sobered, studying her suitor for a long moment, considering how to reply, knowing how much might be riding on how she answered. "That one was a love match," she said finally. "We were to have married the summer after our betrothal was announced, but he died in the King's service."

"And in your brother's as well, I believe?"

She nodded reluctantly. "He was sent on an investigative mission by Seisyll, yes. Something went wrong; the man he was investigating discovered what he was doing and had him killed."

"I'm truly sorry. I imagine, especially since it was a love match, you must have been devastated. You were how old then, twenty and one?"

"Yes. Just a few days short of my twenty-second birthday."

"I suppose Seisyll was reluctant to press you into accepting a third suit after that?"

The blue-violet eyes assessed the High Lord, wondering just how deep his inquiries into her past had gone. "He was. He felt partly responsible for my affianced husband's death, having sent him into that situation in the first place."

"And you've never felt inclined to accept any other offers?" The look he gave her was sympathetic, yet appraising as well. "I'm sure I'm not the first man since then to offer for you."

Jashana looked away, stared out the window at the falling sleet outside. "No, you're not," she whispered. "My lord…." Her voice trailed off as she realized her true reasons for remaining unwed might well put an end of the High Lord's interest in her, were she to share them. But on the other hand, she could hardly start off a marriage on a foundation of deception and expect that to end well either. She sighed. "You understand, _Ard Tiarna,_ that I was young and quite incautious then, and very much in love?"

He nodded. "I do. And Mihall will suffice. Or Michael, if you prefer."

She glanced quickly at him, at his understanding smile, and spoke quickly, delivering the words before she could lose courage. "When I learned of my betrothed's death, a scant month before our wedding day was to have taken place, I miscarried of our child. I couldn't bear the thought of being given to another man, and under the circumstances, Seisyll agreed not to try to secure me another husband, not just to give me time to grieve but to spare my reputation as well. He could hardly offer me to anyone else as a virgin bride, after all, but I was no true widow either." She ducked her head, quickly blinking away tears as one finger idly traced a pattern woven into the fabric of her gown, then risked a quick look back up at the High Lord. She was startled to find compassion in his eyes rather than judgment or anger.

"Grieving both a lover and a lost child in secret must have been utter hell for you, Jashana. I'm glad your brother allowed you time to heal." He was silent a long moment. "Is the thought of sharing your bed and your life with another man still unbearable to you, or have you healed of those wounds long enough to consider another offer now?"

She stared at him, incredulous. "You would still have me?"

Michael gave her a wry smile. "Dear lady, do you think me such a saint that I can't relate to a passionate and headstrong young woman's temptation to anticipate her wedding vows by a matter of a few months? I assure you I've made far worse choices."

"I wasn't simply tempted, my lord," she reminded him, her voice flat. "I fell."

"Aye. Quite hard too, from the sound of it, and suffered great injury. Why should I heap further injury on top of that? You're not a masochist on top of your other sins, are you?" He smiled gently.

She gave a reluctant chuckle. "No."

"Good. _That_ might have put me off marrying you." He took her hand. "Jashana, Llyrian ways are different from the ways of Gwynedd, not simply in our forms of marriage, but in many other things as well. In Llyr, at the moment you consummated your betrothal vows, you would have been considered fully married in the eyes of God and man. A more public ceremony, while preferred by the Church, wouldn't be required as long as the prior promises existed and were duly witnessed. Truly, I see you as no different from any other young widow who has lost her husband far too soon." He stroked the top of her hand with his thumb, looking thoughtful. "Would you be willing to consider my suit, or do I need to share my own mistakes and misbehaviors first? I suppose that would only be fair. You should know what manner of man you'd be getting out of the offer, after all. Especially since you don't strike me as the sort of woman who would take the bait just because I dangle the coronet of a _Ban-Tiarna_ over your head."

Jashana laughed. "Since I wouldn't have been able to venture a guess as to what a _Ban-Tiarna _even _is_ before yesterday evening, that's a fair enough assessment. No, I'm not a coronet-chaser. I could have had one on my head long before now, if that's all I wanted from a man." She looked down at his hand, clasped around her own. "I was unwilling to consider anyone else for a long time, but now…." She bit her lip. "I want children, Mihall, and a life apart from my brother's. Not to mention a household I can be mistress of, instead of feeling like a guest in my own home who has long overstayed her welcome. Not that Seisyll or Sophie have ever given me cause to feel that way, but I do feel it nonetheless. I have to admit, your offer is quite tempting."

"Good. That's at least one shared goal, then. Let's see if we have others in common."

Jashana continued staring at their clasped hands, extremely conscious of the warm strength of the gentle yet firm grip of his fingers on hers, the stroke of his thumb as he continued to caress the skin on the back of her hand. Her eyes moved up from there, following the line of lean yet well-muscled arm, the silken fall of shoulder-length wheaten hair worn mostly loose save for a narrow braid hanging at each side of his face. Her gaze next moved to his lips, still quirked in a faintly shadowed smile, then up to his eyes. The slight creases at their corners grew deeper as his smile broadened.

"Do I pass muster?" he asked.

She blushed, suddenly realizing how obvious her perusal of him must have been, and gave a self-conscious laugh. "Just making sure I could bear to wake up to that face every morning," she joked.

His eyes took on a look of utter mischief. "Aye, if I'm to have a woman in my bed every morning, I'd prefer it not be the mere sight of me that's making her scream."

Jashana's eyes widened. She shot a look back towards the librarian's desk, but to her great relief, Father Nivard seemed oblivious to their conversation. Regaining her composure, she turned back to her suitor. "You were going to tell me more about yourself, I do believe."

"Ah, yes, let's change the subject to something else less likely to shock the priest. Though John knows me well enough after all these years, and has yet to fall into a dead faint before me, so I'd venture a guess he's pretty unshockable." The green eyes laughed. "Let's see. I spent my early years in Llyr, serving as a page and young squire in my uncle's Court, then after a year or so of squire's training I was fostered here in Gwynedd in King Brion's service. I served here until shortly after I was knighted, then I was recalled to Llyr to meet the maiden my mother had chosen for me to marry. We wed the following summer, and Corin was born just short of a year afterwards. We lost a daughter a couple of years later, but there were no more babies after that." His face grew somber as he paused in his tale, thinking back on the memory.

"Was it a happy marriage, despite that?" Jashana prompted gently.

"We were content enough, or at least I was, and she never gave me cause to believe she wasn't as well." Michael leaned back slightly, considering the question. "It was never a grand passion, but we grew to care for each other."

"That's good, then. But you weren't able to have more children?"

The High Lord shook his head. "There was another time we thought she might have caught with child again, but we soon realized something felt wrong. She was showing some signs of pregnancy—her courses stopped and nausea began, her belly started to grow—but I couldn't sense a new life growing within her, and neither could she, though her own Deryni powers were mostly untrained, so that was scant cause for concern at first. Once we were certain we were past the time when any growing babe should have quickened in her womb, though, and all remained quiet within, we consulted with physicians...well, _I _did, anyway; my wife was more shy about seeking out a man's services, though she consulted with a midwife. What had seemed to be a child growing within her turned out to be a canker of the womb instead. She lived several more years after that, but her health grew progressively worse and she was never able to conceive again. Towards the end, of course, she was far too ill to even try anymore."

"I'm sorry for your loss. And you were left a widower, then, with a young son and no daughters yet to secure his inheritance?"

"With a son, aye, though at that time the lack of daughters was less of a problem. Corin was to become _Tiarna_ to a few minor lands, but not to the entire realm of Llyr. My sister Catriona was still the _Banoidhre_, and I had every hope she'd marry soon and produce the Llyrian heir. She had written me not long before to say she was going to be taking a spiritual retreat of sorts at St. Kyriell's to consider that very decision." Michael gave Jashana a wry smile. "I had no idea that she planned to take three years to make up her mind, nor that she was considering marriage to a Gwyneddan duke. Probably just as well; I'd have been tempted to drag her home by the hair!"

"Things might have ended up a great deal different if you had. You might well have had both a Llyrian heir and a future _Banoidhre_ by now."

"Aye, I know, but I'd have had a far less happy sister. She _was_ happy in those years she had with her duke, brief though they were." Sorrow filled his eyes. "And she did end up bearing both a son and a daughter, just not for Llyr."

Jashana studied him with a faint smile. "You're a romantic, then. It truly doesn't matter to you that she gave up her duty and her birthright for the sake of love?"

"Oh, my sister served our realm in other ways far better suited to her callings. Having devoted most of her life to our people already, in her own ways, I wasn't going to force her into sacrificing it completely to become the royal brood mare. Besides, a marriage of hearts isn't so commonplace that I'd wish to stand in the way of that. It's not as if I'm too old to sire more children for Llyr myself."

"No, I suppose it's not. And what about your second marriage? Were you as content in that one as in your first?"

Michael snorted. "No, I'm afraid that one falls under the category of misdeeds and mistakes, and I can't even blame youthful recklessness for it. Strong drink, aye..." He sighed. "There was a young _ridere_ in my service who brought his entire household to my Court at Shiele one winter, including his younger sister, a lass no more than seventeen, if that. Old enough to have discovered her rather considerable powers to charm the male sex; too young to have the good sense to know how to wield them responsibly. It wasn't very long after her arrival that I noticed she had begun to focus on trying to gain my attention, which was flattering enough, I suppose, but I wasn't really interested. We had next to nothing in common.

"A coronet-chaser?"

He shrugged. "Well, no, to be fair to her, she never seemed as interested in my rank and position as...well..." He chuckled, flushing slightly. "No, she had other hopes."

Jashana laughed quietly. "Oh, wait. Seventeen. Yes. She had an itch she was dying to scratch, no idea how to go about it, and you must have looked just the sort who could help her with that." Her eyes gleamed with amusement. "Do go on."

"Oh, trust me, she knew exactly how to go about it." Michael gave a wry grin. "That Twelfth Night, another _ridere_ gave me the gift of some excellent blackberry mead. I don't suppose you've tried Llyrian mead, my lady?"

"I've not, though I've heard it's quite strong stuff."

"Aye. And this was stronger than most. The sort of brew we call 'assassin's mead' in Llyr, for it sneaks up on drinkers unaware and then lays them low before they know what's hit them. I'd had a couple of glasses of the stuff, which was within my normal tolerance for mead, but not for _this_ batch. The next thing I know, two _rideres_ are carrying me singing off to bed, where what should I find but a lovely angel in my bedfurs wearing naught but flowing auburn locks and a winning smile."

The lady before him shook her head. "And you were drunk off your arse."

"Aye. But unfortunately not _too _drunk, to my eternal regret."

"You needn't have married her, you know. It's not as if you seduced her; from the sound of it, it was quite the other way around."

"Aye, but I woke up the next morning to discover I'd bedded a virgin, and one whose brother was a loyal retainer in my service. I felt a responsibility to make some sort of amends for that, though honestly marriage wasn't my first choice. Within the next few weeks, though, she realized she was pregnant, and once I checked to verify that for myself, I realized she bore a daughter, so I offered to handfast with her in hopes that she'd bear my _Banoidhre_ and, with any luck, discover within the year and a day that we were truly unsuited for each other, and she'd not wish to make the arrangement permanent."

Jashana frowned. "I'm afraid I'm lost. Some of our Border lands permit handfasting, but here in Gwynedd the custom exists so that couples in the more remote parts of the land can have some informal form of marriage until an itinerant priest or bishop comes through the area who can solemnize their vows. But even a handfast marriage of that sort is binding. Is it different in Llyr?"

Michael nodded. "Llyr allows two forms of marriage—the permanent sort, as you have here in Gwynedd, only our ceremonies are far less formal; and handfasting, which is a temporary form of marriage lasting only a year and a day, unless both partners agree to continue it beyond that, in which case it also becomes permanent. But children from either form of marriage are considered legitimate, and therefore entitled to inherit lands and other birthrights even if they are born to a handfasted couple who ends the arrangement afterwards."

The Gwyneddan lady raised an eyebrow. "And the Church of Llyr has no problem with that sort of temporary arrangement?"

"Oh, they have problems aplenty with it, but it exists anyway. It's a holdover from much older times, and one that's lost popularity, though it's not been completely stamped out."

"My uncle Denis would crap bricks."

Michael laughed. "Bishop Arilan? Aye, I imagine he would. Don't worry, I wasn't thinking of offering you a handfast marriage, though had he ever met my second wife, he might have ended up deciding our handfasting was the lesser of two evils." The flare of amusement died. "I never wished her dead, though, much less ever wanted to be the cause of it."

"She died giving birth to your child?"

"Not in the birthing itself, though that was hard enough on her, but of a fever afterwards. She'd bled too much, and was too weak to fight off the childbed fever that came upon her a few days later."

"And your daughter?"

"Stillborn. The midwife said her cord was twisted around her neck. She never drew a breath."

"Oh, Mihall, I'm sorry."

The High Lord nodded, staring out the window at the wintry weather beyond it for a long time. At last he turned back to Jashana.

"My first marriage was arranged for reasons of state, and my second for reasons of circumstance. If I marry again—and I must—at least this time I'd like it to a woman of my own free choosing. I realize we barely know one another yet, though at least we've been acquainted for some years, if only in passing. But my gut tells me that you would suit me well, if you will have me."

Jashana looked down at her hand, still clasped within his. "Mihall, I need a bit more time." She looked up at his face. "But I'm not averse to your suit. I just need to make sure I make my decision—whatever it might end up being—for the right reasons this time and not the wrong ones. It's an important decision, marriage."

"Aye, it is." He stood, helping her to her feet also. "I must return to Llyr in the morning, but I can return in a fortnight. Will you still be in Rhemuth then?"

"I can be." Jashana gave an ironic smile. "Barring anything unforeseen, of course, such as being sent on the King's business by a certain demanding brother. But I would do my best to get a message to you, were that to happen."

"Kelson knows how to reach me, should you have need to contact me, and of course my son does as well. You'd recognize Corin, aye? He's Kelson's body squire."

"Of course I would. Young handsome Llyrian lad who's the image of his father? He's a bit hard to miss, Mihall, especially here in the heart of Rhemuth." Jashana grinned. "I'd not be suited for the King's work if I were _that_ blind."

"If you've noticed he's made in my image and still think him handsome, that's a promising enough start. I'll hold out hope you might be inclined to accept my proposal when next we meet." The green eyes laughed down at her.

"_If_ I accept you, it will be for other reasons besides that. I'm twenty-seven, Mihall, not seventeen. Though I'm glad you're so easy to look at, if I'm to spend the next two weeks pondering the thought of waking up next to you for the rest of my life."

"In that case, let me give you something else to ponder, at the risk of shocking my friend the priest. Might I have a parting kiss?"

Jashana lowered her gaze demurely, more to hide her amusement than out of any sense of shyness. "My lord, I've not agreed to a betrothal yet."

"Aye, I know." The laughter in his gaze took on an impish gleam. "I'm hoping that it might hasten your decision making. Unless, of course, I somehow make a complete muck-up of things, in which case it might hasten matters in a way I'm not looking for."

Her blue-violet eyes met his, echoing their amusement. "Oh, no worries on that score. Unless you were planning on slobbering all over my face or ramming your tongue halfway down to my spleen, I doubt you'd scare me off with a mere kiss." She waited for his roar of laughter to die down before continuing with a grin. "I'd just rather not be the topic of Court speculation over the next two weeks. You _do_ realize we're standing in front of a window? The way gossip spreads through Rhemuth Castle, 'he kissed her in the Royal Library' might well end up being repeated as 'he ravished her on Father Nivard's desk,' and that might be difficult to explain to Seisyll."

"Not to mention John!" Michael chuckled. "Fair enough, my lady." He bowed over her hand, kissing it before releasing it. "If you accept me, at least I shall never need to fear being bored by your conversation."

"No, though I might need to burn all the gags in Llyr."


	2. Part Two: Family Matters

** Part Two—Family Matters**

_ January 10, 1133_

_ The Solar, Tre-Arilan_

The Arilan family was gathered around a trestle table in their solar at Tre-Arilan, enjoying a private family supper at home now that the festivities of the Christmas season were over and Sir Seisyll had been released from his usual duties in Rhemuth for some well-deserved rest and to tend to his own manorial lands for a few weeks until Kelson had need of his services again. Sextus was home also, nursing a bit of a headache still from too much revelry on Twelfth Night, followed by whatever had caused that alarming bruise on the left side of his face the following morning. Jashana decided she really didn't want to know; with her youngest brother, she'd long since learned it was best not to even ask. Even Uncle Denis had managed to wrest a few free days out of his own busy schedule, and so he had accompanied his nephews home to Tre-Arilan for a brief family visit before his return to his episcopal seat in Dhassa. Only her elder sister Javana was missing, having reluctantly returned to the Kheldish Riding with her husband the morning after Twelfth Night. That, too, was just as well, for Javana would probably not have welcomed the news her younger sister was about to disclose to her family. It would simply have underscored her own misery.

Jashana decided there was no better time than the present to bring up the subject of High Lord Michael's proposal. No matter when they found out about it, her family would surely all want to weigh in—they _were_ Arilans, after all; it's not like any of them were ever short of an opinion or shy about expressing it—and while she would make up her own mind about the courtship regardless of what any of them might have to say, at the very least she'd know how they all felt about it. She couldn't imagine any reason why they might be opposed—well, Denis perhaps might balk at her considering a marriage with a communicant of the Church of Llyr, but at least she'd not be wedding completely outside her faith—but aside from that, she could think of no possible causes for objection. Still, she toyed with her wine goblet nervously as the meal was being served. Her family was a strong-willed and sometimes irascible lot, God help them all, and who knew how this might turn out?

Sophie smiled at her from Seisyll's right. Ah, there sat a possible ally if things went all pear-shaped. Sophie could usually be counted on to be the gentle voice of reason in a room filled with mulish Arilans. Well, that is, if Seisyll hadn't managed to somehow get under her skin and make _her_ mulish also, but that happened only rarely. Sophie's was a quieter sort of stubborn, bending and swaying before the raging storms of male bluster surrounding her, but in the end unyielding to brute force, still holding fast to her convictions despite all efforts to uproot her. Jashana smiled back, glad that her sister-in-law had enough energy to join them at table. She had been unusually sleepy of late, but that was to be expected so early in a pregnancy.

The kitchen servants brought in the various platters of food for the evening meal, setting each on the nearby sideboard in preparation for serving it. Two of Seisyll's pages brought the ewer and basin around so each member of the family could wash his or her hands in the scented water before the meal began. That task accomplished, they bowed and left the room, free to rejoin the other members of the household dining downstairs in the Great Hall. The kitchen servants also made their obeisance and left, Seisyll's squire remaining behind to serve up the meal once it was blessed.

"Uncle Denis, would you bless our meal tonight?" Seisyll, the Laird of Tre-Arilan, asked.

Denis's gaze swept the table, coming to rest on his youngest nephew. "Perhaps tomorrow. Tonight I think I'll cede that honor to you, Sextus." He gave the younger man an ironic smile.

Sextus looked up at his uncle, startled. "Why me?"

Denis's smile grew. "Judging from the look of your face right now, if that blow had landed any harder or closer to your temple, you could well have ended up much closer to God than you ever meant to be. So while you're still within sight of the Pearly Gates, perhaps you could put a good word in for our meal?"

Jashana hastily controlled a laugh, turning it into a cough instead.

"Fine, then," Sextus agreed. "Good food, good meat, Good God let's eat!"

Sophie looked aghast. "Sextus!" She shot a look at her husband, who glared at his younger brother. Behind them the squire gaped, then, noticing Jashana watching him, hastily composed his features. Jashana's eyes fell to her plate, exasperation warring within her with grudging amusement. She disapproved of her younger brother's rebellious streak—_must_ he goad Denis and Seisyll at every turn?-and she certainly couldn't condone his irreverence towards God, but when it came to bucking authority, she had to admit the man had a certain sense of style...

"Sextus, _try_ to behave for once." Seisyll gave the black sheep of the family a look that silently assured him that the matter would be discussed again later. Jashana sighed inwardly, hoping she could make her escape before the next Arilan male pissing contest commenced.

The bishop sighed, giving Sextus a tight-lipped glower of disapproval. "Well, given your usual laxity, that went about how I expected it might." He sat, breathing a silent prayer over the meal as he did so before glancing over at his elder nephew. "Thank God he's your problem and not mine!"

Seisyll nodded over his shoulder, signaling his squire to begin serving the meal. The lad moved towards the sideboard.

"Don't despair, Uncle Denis; that's actually an improvement." Jashana offered with a sly grin at her younger brother. "The last time I heard Sextus offer up a prayer, I think it went more like 'Father forgive this food, for it knows not what it does'!"

"Wait, was that at that dump of an inn at Nyford? Jesú, what a memory!" Sextus suppressed a shudder.

"Well, I suppose I ought to be grateful you're staying at inns these days, nephew. I still feel unclean from that louse-ridden pit of a doxy-house I had to haul you out of the last time I rescued your reprobate arse from-"

"Denis!" Sophie gave the visiting relative a wide-eyed look of appeal, jerking her head meaningfully towards the other end of the table. The bishop, startled to be cut off in mid-rant, glanced in the direction of her gaze, belatedly noticing the uncomprehending stares of Sophie's two young children, Stefania and Jamyl. The angelic little urchins grinned back at him, their nursemaid staring at him in shock from her position standing behind them. At the sideboard, the squire looked torn between mortification and stifled laughter.

"What's a doxy-house, Uncle Denis?" Stefania asked, all innocence. The bishop had the grace to blush. He turned to Sophie, apology written on his features, mixed with no small degree of panicked apprehension, but she simply crossed her arms with an expectant smile.

"I believe I'll let you handle the question, dear uncle, since you brought the matter up." Sophie took a sip of her wine. Beside her, Seisyll looked like he was about to choke.

"It's...ah...a place where they sell birds, poppet," the bishop managed feebly after a few moments of frantic thought. Jashana silently applauded the answer. It was difficult to skirt around the truth with a Deryni child who had recently figured out how to Truth-Read.

"Oh?" Stefania pondered. "What sort of birds?"

"Ummm..."

"Birds of Paradise, darling," the girl's father supplied through gritted teeth, glaring at Denis. Yes, Jashana observed, Seisyll definitely looked to be on the verge of choking. Their uncle, that is.

"Oh, I should love to have one of _those_!" The little girl's eyes shone with excitement. Jashana was hard pressed not to laugh.

"So would I," Sextus said with a stifled grin, "but alas, I fear they're far too dear for my lowly income..."

"Sextus..." Seisyll ground out in warning. His squire turned away, seized with a suspiciously convenient coughing fit.

"...so mayhap we should settle on a pretty sparrow instead. Would you like that, Steffie?"

"Oh, _could_ we have a sparrow, Papa?!" Stefania's eyes pleaded with her father. He gave his younger brother a look of exasperation mingled with grudging gratitude for the save.

"Perhaps, if I find any caged ones at the next Fair."

Jashana found herself suddenly dying to have someone to share her amusement with, someone who could see her family as she saw them, through her eyes and mind. That would be one benefit of marriage to a Deryni, she suddenly realized. Which brought her thoughts back to the matter she'd wanted to bring up this evening. Very well then, she supposed she'd not find a better moment to mention it than this one. Seisyll would no doubt be grateful for the change of topic; at this rate, he'd probably gladly agree to any potential match she brought forward, even if it were to the village gong-farmer, as long as it would get his precious darling's mind off disturbing matters such as doxy-houses and Birds of Paradise and Sextus's near-blasphemous attempt at a dinner blessing!

Seisyll's squire began to serve the evening meal, cutting off portions of meat to put on each trencher and adding servings of vegetables, sallet, sauce and bread before handing the trenchers back to each member of the family. That task done, a nursemaid drew Stefania and Jamyl away to dine in the nursery, a maidservant carrying their loaded trenchers to the children's board already set up for their use. The squire withdrew, remaining by the door, ready to refill goblets or assist with second helpings of food as required, the color in his face subsiding nearly back to normal.

"I received a proposal of marriage three days ago," Jashana said once everyone had taken their first bites of food, taking a sip of her wine and mentally bracing herself as every set of eyes at the table swiveled around to stare at her in amazement. She affected nonchalance as she swallowed, smiling across at Seisyll.

"From whom?" Seisyll asked, even as Bishop Denis chimed in, "Is he suitable?" Sophie said nothing, merely gazing at her sister-in-law with an encouraging smile.

"Does he know what he'd be getting into?" Sextus joked.

Jashana laughed, turning to answer his question first. "Oh, doubtless not, though I did my best to warn him." Turning to Seisyll, she added, "High Lord Michael of Llyr approached me at Twelfth Night feast to request a private conversation with me the following day in the Royal Library. When I met with him that next afternoon, he brought up the subject of marriage."

Seisyll stared at her, dumbfounded. Jashana risked a glance at Denis. He looked thoughtful. "Hm. Well." The bishop frowned slightly, though not in disapproval, Jashana thought, then finally offered, "As far as Deryni families go, one could hardly hope to find an older or more well-established one." He glanced at Seisyll.

"True," the Laird of Tre-Arilan murmured, having found his voice again. "Though I wasn't aware the High Lord was courting you, or even that the two of you were all that well acquainted, sister."

"He wasn't until Twelfth Night, and we're not," Jashana told him. "I haven't given him my answer, but I've promised to consider his offer, and he's said he's agreeable to allowing enough time for a proper courtship so we can get to know each other better and be certain we'd suit, although he doesn't wish to put off marrying for _too _long. He has a line of succession to secure, after all." She smiled disarmingly at her brother. "I hope you don't mind that he brought the question directly to me rather than consulting with you first. He said he wanted to see if I was minded to even consider the proposal before making a formal offer to you. And you have to admit, that only makes sense. After all,_ I'm_ the onewho'd have to live with him, not you."

Seisyll pondered the match. "Well...I don't suppose I have any objection...he's certainly suitable enough!...but..." His voice trailed off as he glanced around the table, then back to her. "Are you _sure? _ You gave me to understand you weren't interested in any other offers after your last betrothal..."

"Of course I wasn't! I was in love, and grieving! Not to mention...um...the other extenuating circumstances that existed at the time..." She toyed with her food, carefully not looking towards Denis. "Which, by the way, I _have _brought up to the High Lord." She raised her gaze to Seisyll, noting his upraised brow. "I didn't wish to start a relationship with him on the basis of a deception."

He frowned worriedly. "I suppose that's wise, though he might well withdraw his offer."

"Oh, he won't." This came from Denis, who regarded his niece with a look of speculation. "He's Llyrian; he'd consider her a widow, not a wanton."

"I'm hardly _that_, Uncle!" Jashana protested hotly. "Just because I anticipated my vows..."

The bishop held up his hand. "I didn't mean it that way, lass. Settle down!" He took a deep breath, summoning up patience, and gentled his tone. "I simply meant that you're fortunate it's a man of Llyr who is offering for you, and not someone who might take a less tolerant view of your...youthful mistake. You were under vows to wed already; I know that. I never meant to imply that you're loose with your favors in general. Think a little better of me than _that,_ niece!"

The young woman nodded, feeling a little abashed at his mild censure. She had assumed the worst from his words when she should have known better. Her uncle had been quite disappointed in her and upset when he'd found out that a miscarried pregnancy was the reason for her sudden incapacitation following her beloved's death, but he'd never once made her feel like he thought less of her as a person because she'd given in to her desires too early, and he'd forgiven her freely rather than holding her lapse over her head as some might have done. He loved his family deeply, even though he made no secret of his displeasure when they behaved contrary to his hopes and expectations for them.

"So you don't mind that he's Llyrian?" Jashana asked.

Denis snorted. "I don't imagine that's much different than being from any other Kingdom outside of Gwynedd, though if what you're really asking is, does it bother me that he belongs to the Church of Llyr and therefore his beliefs differ a bit from ours, then yes, that does concern me some. But the differences aren't extreme enough in the necessities of the faith for me to quibble over, and as for the less essential points of it, well, if I've not managed to teach you proper doctrine by now, I despair of ever doing so." He gave her a wry smile. "You're not the sort of gullible girl to believe everything you're told without examining it thoroughly first, so I'm not too worried you'll suddenly lapse into heresy." He raised his hand to forestall any protest she might make. "_Not_ that I'm calling High Lord Michael a heretic!"

She chuckled. "He'll be glad of that, I'm sure, but I'll leave you two to debate theology at family gatherings, if I marry him and if you're both so inclined. You seemed to take a perverse pleasure in harassing his sister on matters of doctrine, as I recall. Were you truly thinking you could convert a Llyrian priest to the Church of Gwynedd, especially knowing she'd have to renounce her vocation if she did convert?"

The bishop smiled. "Hardly. I just enjoyed getting her riled." He gave a wistful sigh. "A personal failing, I'm afraid, like Sextus's habit of annoying the hell out of me just because he can." He gave his nephew a knowing look before turning back to her. "I disagreed with the lady on a great many issues, but we respected each other nonetheless." He studied his niece. "Are you minded to accept the High Lord's offer, then?"

Jashana glanced at Seisyll again. "Well...since Seisyll has no objection, and I rather enjoy Mihall's company, I'm inclined to at least allow him to court me. I don't know that I'm ready to exchange betrothal vows just yet, but I'm open to the possibility." At Seisyll's nod of acceptance, she breathed a quiet sigh of relief and added, "Actually, a bit more than open. If he _does_ prove suitable, I'm as eager to marry as he is, I think. I want children." Jashana glanced at Sophie, feeling a bit wistful.

Sophie gave her a delighted smile. "Well, I hope it _does_ work out for both of you, then! You'd make a wonderful mother; you're so patient with Steffie and Jamyl, and I'm sure you must be longing for a family of your own. I'd been hoping you'd find a man to love someday..." Sophie's voice trailed off, and she bit her lip.

Jashana laughed. "Don't worry, Sophie. I know how you meant that, and I won't take that to mean you wish I'd get on with marrying and move out of your house." Sophie's blush confirmed her guess.

Denis watched the two women, a slight smile on his face. "Allowing him to court you is all well and good, but before you move on to anything as binding as a betrothal, I'd strongly suggest you wait until after he's kissed you to decide."

"Wait..._what?!_" Seisyll stared at his uncle, his face a study in shock and near outrage. Sophie looked as if she was struggling not to laugh, and Sextus gaped at the normally strict bishop as if the man had just grown another head.

"Well, assuming the man has normal urges, he _will_ try, after all; if he doesn't, then that's another cause for concern, and Jashana might well be advised not to marry him! I'm not suggesting she play the wanton, Seisyll; I'm merely being a realist. Marriages aren't merely matters of the mind or of mutual convenience, after all; there are hearts and bodies to be taken into consideration as well. Jashana's not known the man long enough for an affinity of the heart to have grown between them. A meeting of minds is all well and good, but if she marries the man, she'll be spending the rest of her life sharing his bed as well, and likely quite frequently if she wants children by him, and if _that's _not bearable to her, that hardly bodes well for her future happiness, does it?" The bishop gave Seisyll a challenging look. "I'd be the first to warn any couple that mere physical attraction is a poor foundation for any marriage, but if it doesn't exist at all, that's a strong warning she needs to look elsewhere. And _don't _bother trying to convince me that you never once kissed Sophie before you exchanged promises to wed; I know better!"

Sophie lost her struggle, dissolving in peals of rosy-faced giggles at the dumbstruck look on her husband's face. Jashana stifled a laugh. "Somehow I don't think a lack of attraction is going to be a problem for either of us, but thank you, Uncle Denis. I'm glad to know you won't think me a shocking libertine if I allow him a kiss, but if the mere thought is going to turn Seisyll apoplectic, I think I can manage to ascertain whether the man will please me or not without allowing him to take undue liberties." She grinned at her eldest brother. "Don't worry, I promise not to ravish the High Lord of Llyr on a library desk."

"No matter how much he might beg," Sextus quipped.

Seisyll rolled his eyes ceilingward, evidently wondering how he'd managed to lose all control of his family's conversation. Either that or he was praying for patience, Jashana wasn't sure which. "All right, I'll concede that you'll want to be certain you can live with the man before you agree to wed him, so I suppose _one_ kiss before you're betrothed will do no harm, but can I trust that you'll conduct your courtship with the proper decorum otherwise? And I _do_ insist on a chaperone..."

"Because you and Sophie always had one..." Sextus helpfully supplied, earning a glare from his brother.

"Damn it, Sextus!" Seisyll growled as Sophie collapsed in another peal of giggles. She glanced at the bishop. A faint rise of his eyebrows and the amused gleam in his eyes set her off yet again.

Seisyll looked at his wife, a sheepish smile lightening his expression. "_Nearly_ always. All right, all of you, you've made your points and I've made mine." He turned to his sister. "If I seem unduly insistent on the point of chaperonage, Jashana, it's not that I'm unwilling to trust you, it's only because I know what it's like to be a man in love. And there's no need to protest that you haven't known the man long enough for this to be a love match yet; if he's got any sense at all, he'll be in love with you in no time, and then I _will _insist on a proper betrothal before love can make idiots of you both!" He grinned. "When did you tell him you'd give him an answer?"

"In just under a fortnight, when he returns to Rhemuth. I said I'd do my best to be available at that time."

Seisyll nodded. "I'll go with you, then. I'd like a private word with him myself before I give official consent to a courtship, but I don't anticipate he'll give me any cause to deny it." He glanced at his uncle with an ironic smile. "Any other sage advice, O celibate one?"

The bishop chuckled. "When have I ever been short of sage advice, wanted or not?" He winked at his niece, who laughed. "Yes, as it happens. Before you make up your mind on his offer, I'd take a trip to Llyr first. It's a quite different culture from ours, and while you might like the man well enough, you may find you can't see yourself living happily in his kingdom. That would be a hard thing to discover after you've exchanged vows with him, especially since you'd be that kingdom's High Lady." Denis glanced at Sophie. "And as for proper chaperonage, have you ever been outside of Gwynedd, dear?"

"Me?" Sophie shook her head, startled. "No, never."

"Ah. Well, perhaps it's time to change that." Denis tilted his head at Seisyll. "I think Sophie would find the experience quite educational as well."

Seisyll nodded slowly. "Yes, and Deryni didn't suffer the same persecutions in Llyr, so they're bound to have some written lore available that would be advantageous to her studies..."

"_Assuming_ Sophie ever learns to read Llyrian?" Sextus added with a wry grin, though he too looked intrigued by the thought.

"Well, no, you're right, but I mean in future..." Jashana could almost see the wheels turning in her brother's head as he worked through the implications of having a highly placed Llyrian brother-in-law who was Deryni. She suppressed a smile, knowing that once he worked it all through, she was more likely to be ordered to marry Michael of Llyr rather than to have his suit denied her. "All right, we can keep that in mind in the long term, but for the short term, if you're going to visit Llyr, I'd suggest you do so in late spring or early summer. Sophie should be past her morning sickness by then, but not so far along yet that travel will be too uncomfortable or hazardous for her."

"Or _I_ could chaperone Jashana," Sextus offered.

The entire table laughed, not bothering to consider the notion seriously. Sextus laughed as well, but to Jashana's surprise, her younger brother actually appeared a little disappointed.


	3. Part Three: Courtship and Choices

**Part Three—Courtship and Choices**

_ January 21, 1133_

_ Rhemuth Castle, Seisyll Arilan's apartment_

The High Lord of Llyr took a seat by the fire in Sir Seisyll Arilan's private apartment at Rhemuth Castle. Seisyll stood on the other side of the hearth, beside a chair on which his youngest sister Lady Jashana sat. The lady gave Michael an encouraging smile.

"So," Seisyll was saying, "Easter Court will be on the last weekend of March this year. That allows you just over two months of courtship time to grow better acquainted, and if you've decided to exchange betrothal vows by that weekend, we could announce the betrothal at Easter Court." He glanced down at his sister, then back at her suitor. "Will that allow sufficient time for Jashana to be certain of her feelings, while not delaying a wedding overmuch?"

Michael looked over at Jashana. "That ought to suffice for me, Sir Seisyll, if Jashana is agreeable to the timing."

Jashana nodded. "That suits me also." She looked up at her brother, then back at the High Lord. "Mihall, if we _do_ decide to wed sometime after Easter Court, when and where did you have in mind?"

He toyed with his wine glass. "The location is unimportant to me; we can have the ceremony here in Gwynedd if you'd prefer to be among your own family and friends. I'd prefer to wed as soon after our betrothal as possible, though I realize Gwyneddan weddings are...a bit more complicated than Llyrian ones, so if you need a little time to take care of all the feminine necessities, I think we can spare that." He grinned. "Just show a little mercy and don't be _too_ elaborate in your preparations; I'd like to marry while I'm still a young man."

Jashana smiled. "No worries on that score. I'm not too much of a fancy fripperies type, and I'd rather marry while I'm still in my childbearing years." She grinned up at Seisyll. "And hopefully before helping your Sophie through another labor scares me off the idea again!"

Seisyll rolled his eyes at her, though he returned her smile. "She had an easy enough time with Stefania and Jamyl. If birthings truly _do_ get easier each time like some folks say, this baby should just show up at the front door one August morning demanding his breakfast."

Jashana laughed. "I would like to see Llyr sometime before Easter Court, though, if I'm to give my decision by then. I think Uncle Denis was right about that. Could that be arranged, Mihall?"

The High Lord nodded. "It would be my very great honor to escort you." Looking at Seisyll, he smiled and added, "_And_ your brother's choice of chaperone, of course." The smile grew into a challenging grin. "In case you have any concerns I might take your uncle's _other_ advice too much to heart."

Seisyll's sister stifled a laugh. "Did you _have_ to share that?" Seisyll asked her with a wry smile.

"Don't worry, dear brother. I promise to behave myself with the utmost decorum, to exactly the extent that I'm certain you did when you were courting Sophie."

"Right." Seisyll suppressed a grin. "I think I'll go along on that trip. It will give me a chance to spend a little time with my wife in a scenic location and relaxed circumstances before the next baby is born, and in my free time, I can sharpen my swords. _All_ of them."

_ This would not be the appropriate time to mention to your brother that my bed is quite thoroughly warded, I imagine? _ Michael of Llyr mindspoke to his intended, a gleam of wicked humor in his eyes.

Jashana nearly choked on her sip of wine. _No, my dear impertinent lord, it most certainly would _not_ be!" _Her dark violet eyes laughed. _Behave, Mihall!_

_ Ladies keep saying that word! How can I be 'haive' if I don't know what that is? _The green eyes teased her a moment longer before the High Lord returned his attention to her brother. "The weather in Llyr should start turning warmer in early March. If that will work with your schedule, I can arrange to show you around then. Your lady might find Transfer Portal travel easier, given her current delicate condition, and if your sister is to become my _Ban-Tiarna_, you'll undoubtedly want a quicker and easier means of visiting her once she's in residence in Llyr than conventional sea travel. I have a Portal location in Shiele I'd be willing to share, if Jashana hasn't had any second thoughts about a betrothal to me by the time you're ready to travel."

Seisyll nodded reluctantly. "That...would be acceptable."

Jashana gave him an ironic smile. "Seisyll, he's not going to have the entire Llyrian Guard awaiting us with a trumpet fanfare and a herald to announce to the entire populace that the Arilan family is Deryni. You can relax."

Michael's lips twitched. "Not a single herald, I promise. And no trumpets. Though there might be a piper and one or two bards to record the historic event of an Arilan invasion of Shiele..."

"Mihall..." His prospective bride struggled not to laugh.

"We'll be quite discreet. I understand your family's need for that, even now that social acceptance for our kind has grown here in Gwynedd." Michael raised an inquiring eyebrow at Seisyll. "Bishop Arilan's standing in the Church of Gwynedd isn't likely to become endangered anymore even if word of your Deryni lineage gets out, does it?"

"No, that's no longer an issue," Seisyll affirmed. "I, however, have certain...discreet business endeavors for the Crown that could well become more complicated should it ever become publicly known that I have, shall we say, a greater range of natural abilities than the average man, and other members of my family could be similarly affected. I've already had to use my powers more openly that I might have wished during the attack on King Kelson last summer, but so far that knowledge has been kept in confidence by the Royal Guard, both at my request and at the King's command." He gave the High Lord a dry smile. "Keeping the family secret is a bloody pain at times. I envy your ability to be more open about your Deryniness."

Michael shrugged. "It helps to be both royal and not Gwyneddan. King Brion had hopes that Deryni and humans would learn to live in harmony again in Gwynedd someday. It saddens me that he didn't live to see that come to pass, but I'm glad his son is finally managing to bring it about. And to be honest, I'm not as open about my powers around non-Deryni as you might think, nor are most of the Deryni in Llyr. Such is the natural price of peaceful co-existence with humans. But at least such openness as we do permit ourselves helps keep others' fears at bay, because they understand there are limits to our powers. And, of course, we've never had an infestation of Festils to deal with either. One of the advantages of living in the middle of the Atalantic, in what you mainlanders consider the God-forsaken southwest end of nowhere."

#

_ March 5, 1133_

_ Caisleán Shiele, the Isle of Llyr_

Jashana gazed out the window of her prospective bridegroom's mountaintop castle, over the lush green island landscape spreading out below her and the winding cobbled road leading down through fertile farmlands to the coastal villages and the sparkling Atalantic Ocean beyond. The morning mists had long since lifted, allowing the High Lord to escort her, Seisyll, and Sophie on a tour of some of the northern parts of the island realm. The southern half, they would save for another outing. They had spent the better part of the morning and afternoon exploring various villages and manor-lands (or what Jashana judged to be the rough equivalent to manor-lands, though she was still foggy about the differences between the Llyrian form of governance and Gwynedd's) that lay closest to Caisleán Shiele, and now had returned to the castle in preparation for the banquet that had been prepared to welcome the island ruler's intended bride to Llyr.

Sophie joined her in the window embrasure. "Well, what do you think of Llyr so far?"

Jashana traced the lead between the diamond-shaped panes of glass idly with her finger. "It's all quite lovely, and the people have been so warm and welcoming. I'm a bit nervous, of course, now that the time to make up my mind is drawing closer, but I suppose that's only to be expected."

Her sister-in-law smiled. "Oh yes. I was _so_ nervous about whether I was really ready to marry Seisyll, and I only had to worry about moving a short distance away from Rhemuth. But it seemed like such an awfully huge decision at the time. Did I really know him well enough to leave everyone and everything I knew for him? Was I truly ready to follow him wherever life might end up taking us? Did I even truly love him, or I simply mistaking girlish fancies for genuine love?" Sophie laughed. "I was terrified!"

Jashana turned to face her. "What made you decide to marry him?"

Sophie's face softened. "I simply realized, when the moment of decision arose, that even though I knew I could get on with the rest of my life without Seisyll, I no longer wanted to. Whatever happened, whatever uncertain paths my life might end up taking, I wanted him by my side for it all. And John helped me work through some of my fears as well."

"Father Nivard?"

"Yes. He and Bishop Duncan both, but it was a conversation I had with Father Nivard, during which he talked about the difference between simple attraction and true love, that gave me the courage to say 'Yes' to Seisyll when I needed it the most."

"Hm." Jashana turned to look out the window again, gazing out at the growing twilight, at the villages in the distance beginning to dispel the growing darkness with firelight as the setting sun streaked the ocean waters with flaming hues as well.

"Do you love High Lord Michael, Jashana?"

There, of course, lay the heart of Jashana's indecision. "I love being with him," she answered quietly. "I feel more alive when he's nearby. And I'm definitely attracted to him…." She bit her lip, thinking back to an earlier love. "That's how I felt seven years ago, and I didn't hesitate about entering a betrothal then. I was eager to wed. But now…." She sighed. "I'm not that same innocent girl anymore, Sophie. I _think_ I'm in love with Mihall, or at least I'm swiftly moving in that direction, but…I'm still a bit scared."

"Of losing him too someday?"

"Yes. Or perhaps just of losing myself." Jashana gave Sophie a wry smile. "I've grown used to not belonging to a man. I'm stubborn and headstrong and independent and every inch an Arilan. What if I can't learn when to hold fast and when to give ground? What if he tires of me, if he wishes he'd sought out someone more biddable?"

Sophie smiled. "Oh, I don't think Michael of Llyr is looking for someone too docile to be his _Ban-Tiarna_. I suspect he's courting you because those feisty Arilan traits are some of the very qualities he hopes to see passed on to his daughters." She laughed. "In moderation, of course. You _could_ use a few lessons in moderation at times." Sophie grinned. "Maybe that's the best argument of all for marrying. You're hardly likely to learn moderation and meeting others halfway while cooped up in a house with Seisyll and Sextus!"

Jashana laughed. "I suppose not."

A knock sounded on the door, and Sophie turned to answer it. A page in the colors of the_ Ard Tiarna's_ household stood in the corridor. "My lady, the feast will be served shortly. _Ard Tiarna_ Mihall and your lord husband await you both in the Hall."

"We'll be down directly; thank you," Sophie assured him. The page bowed and left.

"Well, shall we head downstairs?" Sophie gave Jashana an encouraging smile.

Jashana took a deep breath to stir the sudden butterflies within. "Yes."

#

The room was dark save for the warm firelight from the bedchamber hearth. The feast in Jashana's honor had ended hours before. She lay in the darkness, thinking back on the wonderful repast she'd enjoyed in the Great Hall of Caisleán Shiele, similar in some ways to the one at Rhemuth Castle or even her family's more humble Tre-Arilan, but in other ways so very different. The feasthall, like so many other features of Llyrian life that she'd taken note of that day, was a far more relaxed and informal place in Mihall's Court, with nobles and commoners alike seated on soft hides and cushions scattered around the low tables raised only a short distance from the floor. Pots and cauldrons clustered around the hearth fires sent up tantalizing aromas that permeated throughout the Hall, and the castle bards entertained their newly arrived guests with songs and tales of Llyrian history and heroic feats of old. Mihall, as _Ard Tiarna_, was given a place of honor at the head of the Hall along with his guests of honor, as was also customary in Rhemuth, but he wasn't on a dais, and somehow the whole affair had managed to feel less daunting as a result. She had seen signs here and there that the Hall was occasionally furnished in a more conventional manner—well, what a woman of Gwyneddan upbringing might regard as 'more conventional,' she corrected herself—if necessity demanded, and there were a few things she found familiar, such as the squires and younger _rideres_ serving at table and the pages assisting, but on this occasion she sensed Mihall was deliberately giving her a glimpse of what Llyrian Court life was customarily like when mainlanders weren't expected at the _Ard Tiarna's_ table.

A soft stirring in the adjoining room caused Jashana to sit up. It was probably nothing more than one of the logs in the other chamber's fireplace shifting, but since she was far from sleepy, she decided to check just to make sure. Sophie and Seisyll had retired for the night at the same time that she had, Seisyll laying claim to the chamber closest to the outer corridor for himself and Sophie, leaving the smaller chamber beyond for Jashana's use. Jashana had suppressed a smile at this. The bed in the other chamber was no wider than the one in hers, but evidently her brother was taking no chances on his younger sister deciding to venture forth on any nocturnal wanderings that might result in a romantic tryst.

Jashana peeked into Seisyll's room, barely able to hold back a laugh as she saw exactly what she expected. The door was warded, the deep violet energies of Seisyll's magic dimly visible from across the dark room. The ward was not for their protection, Jashana surmised—Seisyll wasn't so paranoid as to expect that their host might seek to do them harm—but to alert him if anyone tried to walk through. The faint glow around his curtained bed told him that it, too, was enclosed within a separate ward. That, too, Jashana guessed, was not for defensive purposes, but simply to provide his modest lady with greater privacy in case he should feel amorous during their visit. Seisyll's sister grinned. She had no doubt the soundproofing built into that ward was unidirectional and that Seisyll's sharp ears would detect even her lightest footfalls should she be foolish enough to set foot into their chamber or, worse, attempt to venture beyond it.

No, there was no use to even try to leave the confines of her nocturnal cloister. She had evidently guessed correctly as to the source of the sound she'd heard, for a small log had fallen off to one side of the cheery fire in the hearth as the wood beneath it had been consumed, causing it to shift. A few sparks flew forth from it even as she watched, though it became clear that the firewood had not rolled so far out of place as to cause any hazard to the sleepers nearby, and the sparks were contained behind a screen. Jashana returned to her bed, drawing the bedcurtains closed to keep out the springtime chill.

She had barely set head to pillow again when she heard Mihall's voice in her mind.

_Awake, are you, a chuisle?_ A kiss, feather-light, brushed her cheek. She blinked in the darkness. Surely she'd only imagined it! She quickly raised her hand to kindle handfire. A furtive glance around her bed assured her that she was still alone inside its heavy curtains. She doused the magical glow and rolled back over onto her side.

_Mihall?_ She knew it was his voice, but a part of herself needed to ask anyway. She'd not been expecting him to be awake, much less attempting to contact her in such a way. _Where are you?_

A chuckle in the darkness, more felt than heard. _Above you. Not, alas, in quite the way that I might wish._ She sensed his amusement even as her mind filled with a scene of another bedchamber, this one more brightly lit with a bedside lamp, one curtain still tied open to reveal the luxuriously appointed room beyond. _My chamber is directly above yours. Or more likely above Seisyll's. Am I correct in assuming he has taken the bed closest to the outer door?_

Jashana stifled a laugh. _Yes, the Guardian of my Virtue lurks without, ready to pounce upon unwary intruders. So if you were hoping to ravish me in my sleep, you're quite out of luck, I'm afraid._

She heard his quiet laughter in her mind. _In your sleep? How boring! I'm quite counting on you being awake for that. _A soft touch trailed down her neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Jashana realized it felt like a series of gentle kisses, wandering from beneath one ear to just above her collarbone. She felt her face flame.

_How are you doing that, Mihall? It's...disconcerting, to say the least!_

_ But not unpleasantly so, I hope?_

Far from it, but Jashana felt a little nervous nonetheless. _No, but it's a bit like being made love to by a ghost._

The quiet amusement again. _If that bothers you, I'll stop._ The softest of brushes against her lips, then a feeling like a warm presence lying behind her, curled up against her back, one strong unseen arm draped across her. _I just wanted to spend a little more time with you without your brother watching hawk-like over your shoulder. _Mihall sent her a mental image, albeit slightly exaggerated, of Seisyll avidly watching his every move. Jashana muffled a laugh in her pillow.

_He's not _that_ bad about it, is he?_

_ Yes! _Mihall's arm seemed to tighten slightly around her waist. Jashana closed her eyes, allowing herself to imagine that he really lay beside her in the dark room.

_Have you given further thought to your answer, chuisle? May I hope for a betrothal between us at Easter?_

_ I have, and I'll give you my answer come Easter. Three weeks more of waiting won't kill you._

_ Impertinent minx! _The sigh in her mind reflected mingled frustration and amusement. _I can't persuade you to give me an answer sooner?_ The invisible lips brushed her shoulder.

_I can tell Seisyll had his gimlet eye on you for good reason,_ Jashana teased. _Are you hoping you can seduce me into marriage? _

The silent chuckle again. _No. Unfortunately, I really can't keep this up that much longer, and we both need our rest for tomorrow's journey to the southern reaches of the realm._

Jashana's lips twitched. _You can't keep what up much longer, my lord? That's a bit disappointing..._

A mental burst of laughter. _The _magic,_ chuisle!_

_ Ohhh, it's magic, then? _She giggled as the invisible presence smacked her on the backside.

_ I'll let you determine that for yourself on our wedding night. _A brush of something silky—his hair, perhaps?—against her shoulder as a kiss landed on her cheek. _Sweet dreams, my lady. _The unseen presence withdrew, leaving Jashana to drift off to sleep alone, though far from lonely as she fell into delightful dreams in which he had never left her bed.

#

_ March 26, 1133_

_ Rhemuth Castle, Easter Court Feast_

"...and it is my very great pleasure to announce the betrothal of my sister Lady Jashana to the _Ard Tiarna_ Michael O'Shiele, High Lord of Llyr."

A murmur of surprise filled Rhemuth's Great Hall at Sir Seisyll's announcement, though this was swiftly followed by warm congratulations and huzzahs from well-wishers among the gathered assembly. Jashana beamed up at her husband-to-be, seated beside her at Kelson's High Table, where they'd been seated that evening both in deference to the High Lord's rank and the news the King had given them leave to announce the evening before, after a brief private conference with him to inform him of their desire to wed and to secure his official permission both for the wedding itself and for the announcement of their betrothal to be made at the feast following Easter Sunday's Court. Seisyll and Sophie had been in attendance for the short meeting as well, Sophie arriving slightly breathless and muttering something about veils in apology for their slight tardiness.

"You'll be taking one of my brightest jewels from my Kingdom, Michael," Kelson said, smiling down the table at the blushing bride-to-be. "I trust you'll allow her to return to us often?"

"Of course, _bráthair_. After all, my son is still in your service. I expect I'll still want to see Corin on rare occasion..." He grinned at the squire standing dutifully behind the King.

The young man's eyes glanced over at his father's lovely new fiancée, then back at the High Lord. "_Sure_ you will, _athair_," he teased, green eyes sparkling in uncanny resemblance of his father's. "I'll be lucky if you ever emerge from Caisleán Shiele again before you've given me a sister."

"Yes, Llyr needs a new _Banoidhre_." Duke Dhugal, sitting next to his new Duchess, gave his late wife's brother a slightly wistful smile, though the tender glance he turned to his new wife afterward assured the High Lord that Dhugal's heart had already begun to heal. "Have you chosen a wedding date yet, Mihall?"

The High Lord glanced at his affianced bride. "It's not been finalized, but we're considering the first weekend in May."

"The merry month of May," Queen Araxie said, smiling at them both. "The month of fertility and new beginnings. That certainly seems like an auspicious time for a wedding."

"Aye, we thought the same thing." Michael took hold of Jashana's hand. "A new beginning for us both."

The hope of springtime was in Jashana's smile as she gazed into the High Lord's eyes.

###


End file.
